I Remember You
by M.P-chan
Summary: For xShinran: Shinishi disappeared ten years ago. He never came back. Now, Ran meets a man with blue eyes who looks oddly familiar. . . . Shinichi x Ran songfic


**M.P-chan:** This fic was written as a present for **xShinran**_**.**_ It's was a fic I had been wanting to do for while though many key points where changed over the course of writing it. Please read and review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Detective Conan or Emilie Autumn's song Remember. I wish I did. You're probably glad I don't. XD

Ran wrapped her arms around herself and stepped out into the winter night. Surprisingly, it wasn't as cold as she would have thought, but the heavy snowfall made it difficult to see. She had been counting on being able to use her car, but this inconvenience didn't faze her. If she couldn't drive, she'd walk. But she definitely wasn't going to turn around and walk back into the restraunt.

She clicked the unlock button on her keys and pulled out a brown paper bag that held a long tube wrapped in colored tissue paper. Ran took out the bag and, cradling it in one arm, closed to door, and relocked the car.

And there she was, walking down the street with the strange bag, though not too strange as it was the holiday season, wondering if her dear friend Sonoko was right, and Ran really was crazy. Eisuke had just proposed to her for the third time, and for the third time, she had turned him down.

What was wrong with her? Eisuke would make a wonderful husband; a loving father. He was a beloved friend (and boyfriend), and had led a very successful career as a CIA agent. And when she had said she didn't want to move to the U.S., he had quit his job on the spot and now had an (equally successful) job as a special agent for the Japanese government.

Eisuke was wonderful in every way (except his excessive clumsiness) and she loved him. They'd been together for three years now, so why couldn't she go through with the marriage? She'd given tons of reasons (she wasn't ready, it wasn't the right time, etc.) but neither she nor Eisuke believed them. And every time she refused his hand, both their thoughts always went back to a certain boy . . . It wasn't that Ran wasn't ready for marriage, it was that Eisuke wasn't the right one. _No one_ was the right one; her one chance at married bliss had slipped through her fingers years before.

And now, now with Eisuke's third refused proposal, they knew it was over. Eisuke would wait for her, if she asked him to. He would wait for her heart to heal enough to accept him. But if he did that, he would never stop waiting. And so, without saying it, her departure that night wasn't just the end of their dinner, it was the end of their romantic relationship. Whenever they met again, it would be an awkward meeting between friends. Ran hoped she didn't meet him too soon.

Ran turned and walked down a gravel path, iced over and covered in footprints, to huge, ominous iron-cast gates. Beyond them lay an empty parking lot, and beyond that lay acres upon acres of graves.

Pulling the tube out of the paper bag and tearing off the tissue paper, Ran pulled out what was inside; a single half-opened rose. Strangely, it didn't feel silly, getting flowers for an empty grave. After all, they'd never found the body to bury anyway.

Walking swiftly through the rows of headstones, she found _his_ grave. She wanted to deliver the flower before midnight (it was quarter till) and the New Year arrived. While people all over the world would celebrate, to Ran it was just another year since _he_'d been gone from her life forever.

But _his_ grave was not alone. A stranger stood there. It was difficult to make out through the snow, but it seemed to be a man. He turned to her, and though it should have been impossible due to the fact she could barely see anything more than three feet away, she _did_ see his eyes; royal blue eyes. And a shock went through her.

_Like the dream I had_

_In subconscious deep_

_Here you come again_

_Only in my sleep_

_And I remember you_

_I remember you_

_He_ was Shinichi Kudo. He had come from a happy (and fairly wealthy) family that consisted of his famous ex-actress mother, famous best-selling novelist father, and himself. And for as long as Ran could remember, the only thing he'd ever wanted was to be a famous detective like his idol, Sherlock Holmes.

Shinichi and Ran had met as small children (their mothers had been school friends) and they had been inseparable ever since. As they got older, Shinichi's love for detection only grew, as did Ran's love for Shinichi. By the time they were 17, Shinichi had had all of Japan in an uproar. He was the genius high school detective, the savior of the Japanese police, there wasn't anyone who didn't know his name. And then, suddenly, he disappeared.

At first Ran was worried. After 3 days, she went to call the police, but was stopped by a phone call from Shinichi himself. He was busy on a case. He wouldn't be home for a long time. Months past. She got phone calls and the occasional short visit. But eventually even those slowly stopped. She talked to his parents (who lived oversees) and they eventually agreed with her. They filed a missing person's report.

Ran did everything she could to help find him. She made sure his disappearance got as much publicity as possible. She volunteered countless hours to searching locations where he had thought to have been sighted. Every possible clue, every possible lead, she followed. They got her no closer to answers. And then she lost hope. She'd said she'd wait forever for him, and she had meant it, but then the years took their toll on her. Seven years later, Shinichi Kudo was pronounced dead.

But she'd never been free of him. Even now, she still dreamed of him coming back to her, only to wake and collapse in tears . . . How many times had she grieved for him? Ran had tried to move on, but as that night's events had showed, it seemed that even now Ran waited for Shinichi's return.

And there he was, his memory come back to haunt her. Like a mirage to disappear the second she hoped. But it couldn't be him. Because it was not Shinichi as she remembered him. Even as the white flakes clouded her vision she could tell he was taller; older. It had only been the blue eyes that had startled her. She called out to the mysterious man. Who was he and what was he doing there?

_Like a memory_

_Of a time gone by_

_Many things I've seen_

_Still I can't deny_

_That I remember you_

The man did looked up at her again, taking his eyes from Shinichi's headstone for only a few second to look at her before turning back to it. But it did more than enough. If his eyes had had an affect on her the first time she'd seen them, it was nothing compared to now. Because now she couldn't pass it off as a mistake. Those were defiantly _his_ eyes.

And yet, that didn't comfort her the way she thought it would have. Having Shinichi, if the stranger was Shinichi, here, at this time, did not give her any pleasure. Was he a ghost? If he was, he had lived much longer than when she had last seen him. She doubted that it was Shinichi himself. If Shinichi _was_ alive, he would have surely found a way to tell her and his parents not to worry or given them an explanation.

Or what if he was a figment of her imagination? Her idea of what he would be if he _had_ lived. That idea brought several questions to mind. If that was the case, then what was the meaning of him coming on that night of all nights? The same night she had ended things with Eisuke. Was it to taunt to her? To rub in the fact she was probably doomed to end her days as an unmarried spinster?

If so, her imagination was surprising cruel. Also, if her brain was going to all this trouble to recreate Shinichi for her, why couldn't it have done a better job? She could barely make him out through the snow. If she was going to go through the heartbreak this illusion was undoubtedly going to give her, she might as well have gone all the way and gotten as much momentary pleasure from his company as possible.

With the crunch of the snow bellow her boots as the only noise, she walked over to the man and Shinichi's false resting place. She didn't look as him, or attempt to confirm her suspicions. She was too chicken. Instead, she placed the rose on the ground and moved to brush the snow that half covered Shinichi's name. The man's hand touched hers as if to tell her not to, but the contact lasted less than a split second. She couldn't tell if she felt him or not, but she had felt a definite chill.

_Every other touch_

_Runs as cold as ice_

_If I get too close_

_I may pay the price_

_But I remember you_

Her eyes widened. She had felt something. Barely, but she _had_ felt it. He had been _cold_. Figments of your imagination weren't cold. They weren't anything, because they weren't there. That meant he _was_ there. Whether he was a ghost, or someone who was merely similar to Shinichi; similar with the exact same eyes. Impossible. She knew those eyes better than anyone. And she knew how they made her feel, making her pulse race in her veins, just as it was doing now. This was defiantly Shinichi. Dead or alive, he was defiantly there.

She leaned down and started to brush away the snow that covered his name. He made no move to stop her this time. The ice started to sting her hands, but she didn't stop. When she was done, you could clearly see his name and date of birth. The date of death had the last two digits replaced with dash marks. There was no way to know when Shinichi had died.

Still, it was a nice gravestone. Below the dates, the line, "There is only one truth," was engraved at Ran's request. It seemed fitting to place his motto there. But Shinichi's truth, the truth of what had become of him, would never be found. It didn't seem fair, but it didn't matter. He was gone and knowing how and why it happened wouldn't change that. Except- Except, that he wasn't gone. He was there. At that moment, he was there. And yet Ran couldn't find the words she needed to say.

She didn't want to spoil this moment with him. Not when she'd finally been able to see him after all these years . . . She was terrified that he would disappear again, even the slighted movement could possibly make him leave. She was even afraid to breathe. And at the same time she wanted, needed, to know. Was he the same? Had death changed him? Had time changed him?

Even if Shinichi had changed, Ran hadn't. She still carried her infamous fear of ghosts. And she still couldn't help but steal the smallest glance at him. She only let herself look at the hem of his coat, but it was still enough to send goosebumps across her skin, though she wasn't sure if they were the good kind or the bad kind. Speaking of which, where ghosts supposed to look so solid?

_Yes, I remember the things you do to me_

_When you say my name,_

_When you hold my hand._

_When you whisper in my ear the things_

_That only you could understand._

_When you touch me in the way_

_That only you can do,_

_I remember you_

She jerked her head away. She couldn't risk losing this moment of piece, since it seemed she was already losing her mind. The Shinichi beside her didn't stir, but she didn't risk looking at him again. Instead she concentrated on the sounds of the night. In the distance, she could hear the whooshes of cars speeding by on the highway. But other than that, the world was silent. There were no birds or insects in winter. She didn't check to see if Shinichi breathed, though if she wanted to she could tell at another glance.

She didn't want to know. As scared of spirits as she was, the idea that he wasn't Shinichi scared her more. She shook her head, an almost violent movement, as if to shake away the thought. She wasn't wrong. She couldn't be wrong. No matter how different he was, he had to be Shinichi. This feeling of nostalgia couldn't be wrong, could it?

She pulled out a pocket watch, a replica of one Sherlock Holmes had used in an old movie that had belonged to Shinichi. Using it always made her feel closer to his memory. Her beloved mystery nerd . . . .

The face read two minutes to midnight. The battery was nearly dead. It had reached the end of its life. Ran was surprised it had lasted so long, though it made her happy. She hadn't made any alterations to it since Shinichi had last touched it. It's gentle ticks soothed her and filled her with a warm feeling. Sometimes she could swear that was thanks to this memento of him that she had been able to carry on. But nothing lasted forever.

_I would recognize your shadow in a crowded room_

_Change your name a million times_

_It wouldn't change my mind_

_Or what I hope to find_

_In your heat underneath_

_In a new rhythm I breathe_

'_Cause I remember you_

_Yes I do_

And it clicked. Nothing lasted forever. And neither would this. Whatever reason he was hear for, this moment wouldn't last forever. Whether she did anything or not, he would leave. She was going to be alone again. To wait again. _Wait._ It was that word that she hated more than any other. How long had she waited? How long had he expected her to?

Shinichi was leaving. He was leaving. He was leaving. He was leaving. The echoing thought seemed to increase in wait. A strong blew past them, chilling her. She dropped the pocket watch. It landed open, face up with the glass cracked; he hands slowing more and more. She had to stop him. He couldn't leave.

She needed him there. For good. Forever and for always. Why wouldn't he say anything? If only he would give her a sign, tell her it was all right, or promise to stay, or . . . or _anything_!

Suddenly, the clouds cleared enough for the moon to shine through, though the snow continued to fall heavily. The moonlight illuminated the pocket watch's face. It hands counting down the mere seconds to midnight. She leaned over and picked it up, and as she was standing back up, her eyes widened. She had stopped avoiding looking at him and now she could see it plain as day, his dark outline in the snow. Did ghosts have shadows?

She stood up straight, startled. He was alive! Shinichi was alive! And he was here! He had come back! Just as he'd promised he would, he'd come home. Shinichi was looking at her, his gaze completely centered on her face. His eyes were drowning her in blue. She was still waiting. The pocket watch stopped. One second, two seconds. It had died; and the sky above them erupted into loud, colorful displays of fireworks. She needed to hear him say it . . .

_I remember you_

_And I want you to say my name_

_Say my name_

_Say my name_

_Say my name_

"Ran."


End file.
